


Belong To The Night

by limerencing



Category: American Horror Story: Apocalypse
Genre: Adoption, Eventual Smut, F/M, Prophecy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-19
Updated: 2018-12-19
Packaged: 2019-09-22 15:05:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17062031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/limerencing/pseuds/limerencing
Summary: You lived in St. Mary’s Home, a orphanage run by nuns and priests. You were schooled there, too, like some of the other girls, and taught all about god’s plans. You were sixteen when you first strayed from them. All because of a boy.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> moved here from tumblr

The clocked ticked agonizingly slow. You heard a Latin word and repeated it along with the rest of the class. It meant red, you registered. You’ve been learning Latin for four years now, to, as Sister Evelyn puts it, better understand the Lord’s scripture. If you were honest, God seems like less of a savior and more of a requirement if you’re stuck with him seven hours a day, everyday, for sixteen years. This was your last class today. You had thirty more minutes to endure. But the class was interrupted by a priest, and a woman dressed in all black. She could’ve been a nun, you thought, with the grimness on her face. 

“Miss Y/N, please follow me.” The man you understood to be Father William said solemnly. He hadn’t even addressed your teacher. It was… strange. You complied of course, and you could’ve sworn you saw the flicker of a smirk in the strange woman’s eyes. 

“What’s this about, Father?” You say, idly playing with the cross around your neck. 

“This is Miss Meade, Y/N, she’s going to adopt you.” He said. You should have been ecstatic… but something seemed off. Miss Meade didn’t smile, or even grimace. She looked at you like she was nervous. Like she was afraid. Afraid of you. But the type of fear you have for a person in authority. 

“Pleasure.” Miss Meade finally spoke, and dipped her head in what looked to be a bow. 

“Thank you,” You said, remembering what was actually happening. “You won’t regret this, I promise.” You smiled, and the genuine happiness set in. You’d get to live a normal life. Looking back now, it would be another year before you realized that you were dead wrong.

Miss Meade’s home looked relatively normal from the outside. When you got to the door, she stopped and faced you. “I nearly forgot. There’s a surprise for you in the downstairs portion of the house, so you can’t see it yet. Would you mind?” She chuckled, covering her eyes with her hands as an example.

“Oh, Of course.” You smiled politely and covered your eyes, trusting her to lead you up the stairs. When you got the end, you took your hands away and revealed to yourself a normal hall. Obviously, you thought. 

“So, there is someone else here. His name’s Michael. Around your age, actually. That’s lovely. His room’s right next to yours. And he’s not your brother, or anything, so feel free to…” She trailed off once she saw your face. “Sorry, I got a bit carried away. Make yourself at home.” 

“Yes, ma’am.” She opened her mouth to speak, but closed it and nodded instead. You watched her walk down the stairs and turned, startled by the sight of a boy. 

“Hello.” He said cheerily, with a grin that looked too big to be real. 

“Hi” You replied.

“You’re her, aren’t you? The woman we’ve been waiting for?” 

“I suppose. Has Miss Mead trying to adopt a while?” This made his laugh echo throughout the room.

“No. No, I think it’s a relatively new thing. She hates children, you see, except for the two of us, obviously.”

“I’m Y/N.”

“I know. I’m Michael.” 

“I know.”


	2. Chapter 2

The first night there was filled with unanswered questions. You had slept on the floor in Michael’s room, which you were fine with, but it confused you. If this woman had planned to adopt someone, then why did she not have a room ready? And why were you not allowed downstairs? You thought about asking Michael, but decided against it. Something about him put you on edge. You weren’t afraid, but you felt like you could’ve been. Everything sort of seemed like that, like you were stuck in the moment that came right before fear hit. It was unnerving. You’re train of thought was interrupted by a voice from the bed. 

“Y/N? Are you awake?” Michael whispered, you could see his fingers hang off the bed slightly, trying to get your attention.

“Yeah.” You replied softly, debating sitting up.

“Would you like to come up here?” He asked like he had rehearsed it. 

“Ok.” You eventually said, standing up. You pulled your pillow after you but left the blanket there as you saw Michael offer some of his. You noticed now that he had taken off his shirt. It was hot in here, so you suppose it was what boys did when it got too hot. Crawling in bed, you watched him situate himself, like he was trying to accommodate you with as little sacrifice as possible. Then, you thought it might of been a bit rude to not take the floor and let your new housemate have the bed for a night, but you found years later that it was a wonder Michael tried to accommodate a stranger at all. “Michael?” You couldn’t decide if it was a statement or a question, or if it mattered.

“Yeah?”

“Why did Miss Meade adopt me? And how do you know her?” You had popped the question without thinking, and winced at the face he made. Like he was in pain. 

“We- I thought you knew things that you obviously don’t. But you’ll come to know, in time. Do you trust me?” He asked this like it should’ve been an obvious yes, and looked slightly offended when you pondered for a moment.

“Yes.” You finally said, making him smile. You liked to believe you were a good judge of character. 

“Good. Goodnight, Y/N.” You nodded at this, turning to face away from him. Eventually, you felt his hand gingerly placed on the curve of your torso, his fingers grazing your school shirt. It was the only shirt you had brought. For some reason, it made you say a prayer in your head. His breath on the back of your neck was warm and comforting, and you matched your breathing to it. His hand moved forward, slowly, until his arm was draped over you, and he pulled your back against his bare chest. His eyes were closed. He must’ve been asleep. You fell asleep not long after finishing your prayers, but you dreamt of flames. Of Hell, maybe, because being so close to him felt like sin. 

You awoke to Michael’s fingers tracing circles into your ribs. You felt comfortable, but everything within reason said you shouldn’t be. You didn’t know him. 

“Morning.” You said softly, scared of your own voice when it came.

“G’morning.” He replied, removing his arm from your body. You resented that.

“Do I get to go downstairs today?” You asked, and heard a knock at the door instead of an answer. Michael muttered a ‘come in’ and Miss Meade entered, smiling. She was a ray of sunshine compared to the woman you first say at the school. 

“You do.” She spoke. She must have heard you. That made you uncomfortable somehow. “But we need to talk first.”


	3. Chapter 3

“Okay.” Your eyebrows furrowed as you sat up. You watched Michael pull on his shirt and situate himself at the edge of the bed. You felt like you were in trouble. Miss Meade spoke first.

“So, you were brought here for a reason, Y/N. A reason meaning so much more than being adopted.” She looked…proud? This woman confused you in so many ways. Michael smiled, his eyes widening in the way they do. So childish and terrifying, like a lion cub. “I knew you’re birth parents.” Miss Meade continued, nodding as your jaw dropped. “They were apart of our cult.” 

“Cult?” You interjected.

“More of a religion, really.” She said, as if it were less confusing.

“What kind of religion?”

“Satanism.” You looked from Miss Meade to Michael, then back to Miss Meade. You should’ve been afraid. You should’ve run out the room. You should’ve called a priest, or the police. But you didn’t. You didn’t even gasp. “We believed in a child that would bring the end of times.” You thought you had figured it out.

“Me?” You asked. Both Michael and Miss Meade laughed as your cheeks reddened.

“Oh great Satan, No! Michael. Michael is the Antichrist.” 

“Oh.” You looked at Michael, and things started to make sense. “Then, why me?” You asked, not looking away from Michael.

“Your parents proposed a problem. Michael would have issues with his humanity. Needs, if you forgive my bluntness. And then they proposed a solution.” You saw where it was going, and you were sure you were beet red at this point. You were kind of angry. 

“I’m not some… some sex doll.” Your voice was louder then before, and you wanted it to sound fierce, but it wavered. 

“No.” Michael finally spoke, shaking his head. “You’re my equal. Well, not completely. If Father gave you the power he gave me, you wouldn’t be able to handle it. You’re mostly human.” He tilted his head, and you thought he was staring at all the places his fingers touched last night. 

“So, what? I’m Chucky’s Bride?” 

“No.” Michael said again. “You’re mine. If you accept, of course.”

“I have a choice?” 

“Yeah, we’re satanists.” Michael laughed. “Free choice. If you don’t accept, we let you go.” 

“But what if I accept?”

“Then there’s a courtship.” Miss Meade answered. You were grateful. You didn’t think you’d be able to make an educated decision if you had to stare into Michael’s eyes any longer. His eyes made you want to slide a ring on your finger. 

“A courtship?” 

“You… date? What do the kids call it these days?” 

“Oh. No, I understand.”

“But, do you accept?” She asked, her eyebrows raised. You looked at Michael for a moment. His smile made your heart beat. For a second there, you felt like you held his soul in your hands. 

“Yes.” You said softly, nodding. “I do.”


End file.
